


Waiting for Marriage

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 15:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: In which Tony gets married and kidnapped in that order.—Tony Stark went to Vegas to cause a scandal.





	Waiting for Marriage

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not, this is actually a canon divergent AU in which a) Thanos is killed by his daughters Gamora and Nebula years before any of canon happens and b) none of the Iron Man movies happen either. Some things change and some remain the same. The story starts when Peter is 24 and Tony is *mumblemumble*.
> 
> Thank you so much to the incomparable Strozzzi for betaing this and for all your encouragement. You remain a star.
> 
> Please see the end notes for content advisories and a note on the rating.

Tony Stark went to Vegas to cause a scandal. He was arguing with his board and prepared to buy back his whole company if need be. He might have a majority stake, but that stake could always rise, and JARVIS had long-standing orders to put an order in if the stock dipped below a certain price. As Tony had made that a matter of policy over the years, the FEC (he hoped) couldn't even get too mad at him.

He started with day drinking, which wasn't that bad. There were countless photos of Tony Stark with a drink in hand. It was his accessory of choice along with an attractive woman, but that wasn't quite what he was looking for right now. Tony kept the drinks coming as he kept an eye out. There were any number of gorgeous young things who got up in his space over the course of the afternoon and evening. The one he chose was a young man in an off the rack suit with pretty brown eyes who stumbled into Tony so hard he spilled his tumbler of scotch straight down the front of his tailored shirt and second favorite tie. He'd barely gotten three sips in.

"Oh—I'm so—I'm so sorry," the young man said. He looked genuinely mortified, especially once he got a look at Tony's face. He went pink. It was a good color on him.

Tony put down his empty glass. "I know how you can make it up to me."

"Um, that's—" The young man swayed a few inches to the left. He frowned and brushed something off his left arm. He looked up at Tony from under his eyelashes. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking we get out of here."

"Probably a good idea." He was handsy on the way out, pulling Tony to the left of the roulette table when he was going to go right, and he accidentally tripped two guys into one another as they passed the slots.

Tony was starting to get a little concerned. "Are you sober enough for this?"

"I guarantee I've had less to drink than you, Mr. Stark."

"Fair enough." Any three people there had probably had less to drink than Tony. "And call me Tony."

Tony waited until they were in front of his car to ask, "What's your name, kid?"

"I'm, um, I'm Peter Parker."

"Ever gotten a blowjob in the back of a Rolls Royce, Peter Parker?"

"No," Peter said faintly.

"Would you like to?"

Peter looked at something over Tony's shoulder. His eyes narrowed. "Sure."

Tony looked back, but didn't see any photographers. Oh, well, the night was young. Peter pulled open the door and practically pushed Tony in. He crawled in after him and covered Tony's body with his own. Tony liked to see that sort of enthusiasm. For his part, he grabbed Peter's ass—very firm, very round, very nice—and got them started with the sort of filthy kiss that belonged in porn.

"Mr. Stark—"

" _Tony_ ," Tony insisted as he paused in exploring Peter's neck with his tongue.

"Tony, you don't—" It took two tries, but Tony got Peter's belt undone. "You don't need to do this."

"Trust me, brown eyes, I don't do anything I don't want to." As his board would soon learn. After the belt, the button and zipper were easy. "Right now, what I really want to do is you."

"I have had a lot less to drink than you," Peter said, but he didn't push Tony's hands away. He inhaled sharply as Tony skimmed his fingers under the elastic band of his underwear.

"I've had a lot more practice."

"I don't doubt that."

"C'mon, up, let's switch. Your turn on the bench."

Tony got Peter's pants down and his mouth nearly on Peter's dick when Peter blurted out, "I'm waiting for marriage."

Tony pulled back. "Seriously?"

Peter looked a little miserable, but he nodded. "Seriously."

"That's your objection?" Tony motioned between them. "No problems with the rest of it? You wouldn't be the first mostly straight guy to change his mind." Peter would, actually, but Tony was trying to offer him an out here. "I can take you back to your hotel, heterosexuality intact."

Peter tipped his head back to stare at the roof of the car. "I don't think any guy could keep his heterosexuality intact after seeing you kneeling between his thighs. But in my case, I was already very, very bi. You don't need to take this as a blow to your ego."

"Marriage, huh?" Tony had been looking for a scandal, and this was Vegas, after all. Even if it weren't, money made a lot of problems go away. "I can work with that."

—

Tony must have had more to drink than he'd thought, because he didn't really remember the rest of the night. He woke up naked in bed with a sore ass, sticky thighs, and a brand new husband passed out beside him. An open bottle of KY was spilled across half the sheets, but that left plenty of bed to spread out on. "Marriage. Huh."

It felt like a lot of other mistakes Tony had made over the years.

Tony rolled over and went back to sleep.

—

He woke up to a practically hyperventilating husband. Peter's eyes were very wide as he looked between his wedding band and Tony's naked body. Peter said, "We didn't."

Tony stretched and winced. "We did."

"But I'm not—"

"I am." Tony rolled out of bed. "Trust me, it's been a while, but I remember what it feels like when something's been up my ass." He'd be feeling a bit insecure if not for the facts a, he was Tony Stark and didn't do insecure and b, Peter was watching him move with the intent look of someone who was memorizing something to replay endlessly when they were finally alone. "Was it good? I hope it was good."

"Me, too," Peter said wistfully.

Leave it to Tony to get his husband blackout drunk on their wedding night, too. "I'm going to grab a shower. You can join me if you'd like."

"I, uh, I kind of need to call my aunt. I said I'd check in today. And I'm sure the person I was sharing a room with is wondering what happened to me."

Tony shrugged and showered alone. He wasn't as sore as he'd expected, but he had bruises in the shape of handprints on his hips. Tony was almost impressed. Then Peter slid in to wash Tony's hair for him and that inched over into actually, especially when Peter looked at the handprints and said, "Unless you asked for that, I think we should wait for anything more until I'm fully sober and can guarantee some restraint. I don't want to hurt you."

"What if I ask you to?" Tony was genuinely curious.

"Fully sober," Peter repeated.

"So how much _did_ we have to drink last night?" Tony asked as Peter slid soapy hands up and down his back.

"I don't know. If you don't, either, then the answer is probably too much."

Tony turned his back to the shower spray. "How much more is more? Just to be clear. I'm not sure how much restraint you'd need for me to give you, say, a blowjob. There's a shower bar right there if you need something to hold onto."

"Do you have any idea how many people slip and fall in the bath every year?"

"But how many of those people are Tony Stark?"

"If Vanity Fair is to be believed, one."

"That was once," Tony protested. It looked like Pepper was right about him being too honest in that interview. It also looked like his new husband was a bit of a fan, as that article had come out years ago. "And I probably would've been fine if we hadn't tried to fit that fifth person in."

Peter smiled, but he was firm as he said, "If you're rinsed off, you should dry off."

"Kicked out of my shower in my own house."

"This is a hotel room."

"Kicked out of my shower in my own hotel room."

"Tony?" Peter pointed. "Out."

Primed by years of Pepper, Tony fell a little bit in love in that moment. Tony got out of the shower, but he didn't like it. "I would like to register an official complaint. It's cruel to marry a man and deny him shower sex on his honeymoon."

"Does this count as a honeymoon?" Peter asked as he slicked his body up with the shower gel.

Tony enjoyed the show as he dried off. He bit his lip as he considered exactly how long it would take Peter to finish sobering up if he was still a bit drunk this morning, as well as his own refractory period. Tony mentally shrugged his shoulders as he palmed his dick. "I'd say so, but we can go on another one elsewhere if you'd like."

"Are you—are you jerking off right now?"

"Objections? I can finish up in the other room if you'd prefer."

Peter closed his eyes as he tilted his head into the spray. Tony pictured an entirely different liquid running down his face and dripping off his chin. "You are really not what I was expecting."

"You read that Vanity Fair article. I should be exactly what you're expecting."

Tony kept his hand off his dick, though, until Peter turned to him and said, "No, no objections."

Peter got clean. Tony got a little dirty again. They traded places, though Peter stopped Tony before he got back in the shower to pull his hand to Peter's mouth and licked his palm and fingers clean. Peter pulled each individual finger, starting with the thumb, into his mouth to suck for a few seconds each when he was done licking. He smiled sweetly.

"Enjoy your shower, Tony."

Tony couldn't get hard again, but his knees were weak as he rinsed off one last time. Between that and the bruises, Tony was really hoping this would be more than a 48 hour marriage. He needed at least a week to explore everything Peter had to offer.

—

When Tony walked out of the bathroom, Peter was pulling on his clothes in a reverse strip tease. It was a crime to put a wrinkled off the rack suit on that body. It was a crime to put any clothes on that body. Peter really should be naked at all times.

"Going somewhere?"

"Breakfast. I think we skipped dinner last night."

Tony didn't make a comment about something else he could feed Peter right now. He'd played himself in the bathroom, and Peter had already—hm. There was an angle. "Still hungry? After that lovingly handcrafted breakfast I worked so hard to make for you?"

Peter gave an undignified snort. Tony grinned and counted it as a victory.

"We can order room service."

"I was thinking of grabbing something from the continental breakfast."

Tony laughed. He looked at Peter's face and saw his expression. "Oh, you're—you're serious."

Peter rolled his eyes. "We're not all billionaires."

"Maybe not, but you did just marry one."

"I didn't marry you for your money, Tony."

Tony was surprised to realize he believed that. "Why did you?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't remember."

Tony was disappointed to realize he believed that, too. "Pure intentions or no, we're not getting the continental breakfast. C'mon, if you're so insistent on going out, I'll take you somewhere worth leaving the room for."

—

They didn't get breakfast. They were walking someplace Tony knew nearby when someone put a gun to Tony's back just as a van pulled up beside them. Peter turned to Tony and froze.

"Get in the van," a gruff voice demanded. In the van were two more guys with guns, plus the driver.

Peter got in the van. He was immediately grabbed by one of the guys waiting. Tony would have been touched if he weren't furious, so angry that he was shaking. "He didn't mean you, Peter."

Peter glared at the man who shoved Tony in after him. "If they want to separate us, they'll have to shoot me."

It was a good thing Tony's new husband was pretty, because he had no damn sense. The thug with the gun at Tony's back agreed with Tony about the latter, at least, because he said, "You say that like I'm not going to shoot you anyway."

Tony also had no sense, because he said, never mind that they'd known each other for less than a full day, "If you shoot my husband, you're not getting anything out of me."

"Husband," the thug said, flat, disbelieving.

"Husband," Tony repeated, flat, emphatic. He held up his left hand with its attendant wedding ring. "You're kind of interrupting the honeymoon."

Peter held up his own left hand almost sheepishly.

"You're shitting me," said the husband grabber.

Somewhat awkwardly, the third offered, "Congratulations."

"You know what would make a really nice wedding present? Letting us go."

"Sorry, but I didn't get an invitation," said the original thug.

"This is going a little far for revenge for leaving you off the final guest list, don't you think?"

"Not revenge. Just business."

"You could let Tony go," Peter offered as Tony attempted to throttle him with the power of his mind. "You only need one person as a hostage, and Tony's a lot more likely to be able to pay the ransom."

"Or you can let us both go, and I'll pay you double."

"This isn't that sort of kidnapping." The thug dug the gun in a little harder. "Now shut up, or I'll shoot both of you."

Tony kept track of the turns and tried not to think too hard about how none of the kidnappers were wearing masks. Maybe they were really stupid or really new or both. It didn't have to mean they were going to get what they wanted from Tony and then dispose of the bodies of the newly married couple out in the desert, ensuring that 'til death did they part came soon enough that they wouldn't have the chance to get sick of each other.

Peter hadn't been kidding about not being sober yet, because when the van stopped and they were being handed out, he suddenly lurched into the original thug. The gun wasn't trained on Tony anymore, but there were two more guys, and one of them calmly pulled out a taser and got Peter while he was tangled up with the first thug.

Tony kept his hands up. "Please don't kill my clumsy husband. He can't help that he's still drunk. He tripped two guys in the Bellagio last night, and that was before we—" Wait. Wait. Two guys. Two very familiar guys, one of whom was tasing his husband while the other held him in a headlock despite the muscle spasms. "We—" Tony looked at the third guy, who'd offered him a complimentary scotch he'd only gotten three sips of. Tony pointed. "You assholes tried to crash my wedding."

If they'd been trying to kidnap Tony that whole time, then who the hell was Peter Parker?

—

Peter kept their kidnappers' weapons and attention on him by dint of headbutting one of the guys in the jaw, elbowing another in the gut, and stepping hard on someone's instep. Tony gave it an A for effort and a D- for execution. Mostly Peter got roughed up in disproportionate retribution. He really, really wasn't kidding about not being sober, but apparently that leaned in an entirely different direction than Tony had suspected.

One of their captors pulled out a syringe. The capsule was filled with an ominously murky liquid. "This is supposed to have a sedative component. Maybe it was meant to soften Stark up a bit, but I say we use it on Mr. Wants to Be a Hero."

He jabbed Peter in the upper bicep with the needle and depressed the plunger. Peter sagged. They locked them both in an empty storage room to give the sedative some time to work. "Ugh. I really hate this stuff." Peter looked around. "If this works the same as before, we've got about twenty minutes before it really starts to kick in, and then it takes forever to clear the system."

"Are you telling me you've been hit with this stuff before?" Tony asked disbelievingly.

"Uh, yeah, last night," Peter said. From his tone, it might as well have been, _Duh, keep up._ Excuse Tony for not leading the life of a superspy. That's what he paid other people for—or to protect him from. "They had tiny darts of them coated in it. I got hit with like six of the things. Six? At least six. They're still messing me up. This is going to be so much worse. I can feel it in my teeth. Never mind, this is definitely not the same stuff as before."

"In your teeth?"

"I'm sorry, Tony, but I am very high right now. If you want coherency, you're going to need to find another spider. Try Black Widow. I hear she only gets drugged when she wants to be. Oh. Oh, man, it's already hitting. I think I'm going to be sick." Peter retched a while. Tony rubbed Peter's back and tried not to think what it meant that his go-to reference was a black ops agent who used to be Russian intelligence, an assassin, or both, depending on where one sourced their information. "I haven't felt this bad since that spider bit me. Or maybe that building fell on me?"

"I only caught about half those references, brown eyes." Tony really hoped Peter—if that was his real name—wasn't wearing color contacts. "Try again in English this time?"

Peter groaned. "Why are all my relationships like this?"

"Got some other relationships going, honey?" Tony kept his voice light, easy, like this was a matter of intellectual curiosity and not like he was intent on every word coming out of Peter's mouth. In all fairness, Tony couldn't remember their vows. It was entirely possible they weren't exclusive. Tony would certainly like to know that now.

"No."

Tony told himself that wasn't relief he felt. He wasn't that much of a sucker.

"They always end, because—" Peter waved a hand. It flopped against Tony's chest at the end of its arc.

"Because—?" Tony encouraged him.

"Parker luck." At least the last name was probably real. "Her dad's a supervillain, or _his_ dad's a supervillain, or I miss too many dates, because my ex's dad's in town or has escaped from prison again. In one memorable case, she's low-key the supervillain." Peter had some real puppy dog eyes going as he said, "Or he's a sexy genius I met on vacation and can't figure out how to tell he's apparently the center of some kidnapping or murder plot and somehow, inexplicably I married him, only _I can't even remember it_ , and now he's going to divorce me, because I unloaded everything while high on some sort of truth serum."

"That's kind of a lot, sweetheart." Tony carded his fingers through Peter's sweaty hair.

"Ugh," Peter said again. "This really is the worst. And it's about to get worse."

"How so?"

"They're coming back."

"One last question," Tony said quickly. "Waiting for marriage: lie?"

"Oh, yeah. Big one. Didn't think you'd go for it." Any other day, Tony probably wouldn't have.

After about twenty seconds, Tony heard the stomp of heavy footsteps echoing down the hall along with a voice shouting. "That's some hearing you've got there, Peter."

Peter shrugged halfheartedly. "It's a thing."

"—can't believe you wasted it on the unnecessary leverage!" the angry new guy finished his tirade as he burst into the room. He kind of looked like an evil supervisor. Acted like one, too. "Why did you even bring him?"

"He climbed in the van before Stark did."

The supervisor slashed a hand at Tony. "Handcuff him to the chair. The other one shouldn't even be able to move at this point. That was three times the recommended dose. He'll be useless now."

"Not necessarily," said the husband grabber, adding to the tally of reasons why Tony wanted to take his latest secret not-actually-for-SI project and blast him in the face. "We've got him. Let's use him. He doesn't need to be conscious for Stark to care about him keeping most of his fingers and the majority of the blood in his body."

Tony drew in breath after slow, steady, deep breath. "Probably not your best idea. How do I know this isn't a set up?" Tony shrugged as best as he could while handcuffed to a chair. "I may have fallen fast for a pretty face, but we didn't know each other that long before we eloped. How do I know he's not a plant and you're not all going to be laughing your way to the bank?"

"So you're saying we can shoot him," said the original thug, and Tony kept his face blank as he pictured shooting _him_.

"I'm saying there's an element of doubt you can eliminate by going straight to the source." Tony cleared his throat and said for the slower members of the class, "That would be me. If you're going to torture someone, torture me."

"Tony, you brave, stupid man," Peter slurred like a complete hypocrite, "I'd rather they tortured me."

The supervisor looked between them and smiled slowly. "Well, who am I to deny such a heartwarming request? It must be true love."

Peter straightened slightly, as best as he could while he was slumped against the wall.

"Give me your taser." The supervisor gestured at one of the thugs. He gave the device a cursory examination. He asked Tony, "No pre-existing heart conditions?"

Shaky, already nauseated, Tony shook his head. Peter's eyes went wide. The supervisor clicked the device on and pressed it into Tony's side. Peter shouted and threw himself forward. He made it a couple feet and got a boot to the head for his trouble. Tony bit through the tip of his tongue.

When he got a reprieve, he saw Peter trying to struggle his way to his feet. Tony swallowed a mouthful of blood. "Peter, don't—"

"Fascinating." The supervisor used the taser on Peter this time. "And you used the full syringe?"

"For the seventh time, yes. I used the full thing."

"It must have activated some mild latent healing mutation. Get him in cuffs, too." The supervisor strolled back up to Tony's chair, then walked behind him, outside his field of vision. "You really know how to pick them, Stark." He did a full circuit, ending directly in front of Tony. He clicked on the taser again. "You may well be right that it's more effective on you. Why don't we see?"

Tony gritted his teeth. "You know, you haven't actually said what it is you want from me."

"Oh, dear, my mistake." The supervisor's smile was cold. His tone was insincere. Tony knew there was no mistake. "Let me rectify that. It's quite simple really. You have a special project going for your friend Colonel Rhodes after that unfortunate incident with those rogue AIM subjects." He tsked. Tony couldn't feel his hands. "Sloppy of the government to lose control of exploding super soldiers. Sloppier still to let their biggest weapons dealer's best friend get caught up in that mess. He made it, didn't he, but his right leg's never going to be the same. He might ride a desk playacting your handler, but he'll never fly again."

"Go fuck yourself," Tony said.

"So selfish. That's what you told your board, too, didn't you? Before you stormed off in a snit to find some cold comfort in gambling, liquor, and," the supervisor trailed his gaze to Peter, "other things."

Tony might not be able to feel his hands, but they were trembling along with the rest of him. "It's a prosthetic and it's not out of the design phase."

"That's fine. I know several parties interested in making up for some of their own shortcomings with such a device, and we don't need you to actually produce it. Provide the blueprints, and we'll provide freedom for your sweet young husband in mostly the same condition as we acquired him, just a little light mental scarring from this ordeal."

Yeah, like Tony would believe that. About the only believable part of it was, "Just my husband?"

The supervisor inclined his head. "Just your husband. A treasure like you is not soon parted with, Stark. I'm sure he'll remember you fondly."

Tony shook his head. He couldn't look at Peter as he said, "No deal."

"Hm. We started with electricity. Why don't we give another element its turn? Or maybe a twofer. How do you feel about waterboarding, Stark?"

"Opposed on principle."

—

Turned out he didn't like it so much in practice, either.

"Not going to beg your husband to give it up?" Honestly, Tony had been kind of wondering the same thing in between gasping attempts to breathe. "To save himself? To make the suffering stop?"

Peter kept his eyes on Tony. All he said was, "It's up to you."

Tony looked back, drawing strength from that drugged, but steady gaze, as he told his torturer, "Go to hell."

They separated them after that. For a little while, Tony's answer didn't change.

For a little while.

—

When they threw Tony in another mostly empty storage room, Peter was waiting for him. He'd picked up a black eye and a split lip. Bloody drool trailed down his cheek and neck. He was handcuffed to a pipe and hanging limp. Tony had a moment where he thought he'd been put in with a dead body until he caught the shallow breaths Peter was taking.

"Enjoy your honeymoon," sneered one of the assholes Tony had already decided he was going to kill.

"Sorry about your husband," said the one guy Tony was probably just going to hurt a lot. "He, uh, he got pretty feisty despite the sedatives in his system. If it makes you feel any better, I think he broke Reynold's arm."

That did make Tony feel a little better, actually. Tony drew closer to Peter's—to Peter. They locked the door behind him. Peter slit his left eye open. The other was puffed shut.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?" he asked. Oddly, his diction was clearer than before.

"Bad news first."

"They are definitely planning to kill us."

Tony laughed, a jagged sound. "Tell me something I don't know."

Peter smiled. "I do have a healing factor, and provoking an actual beating has jump-started the process for shaking off the drugs."

"But you're still not sober?"

Peter shrugged awkwardly. "Sober enough. I think I can control my strength now."

Tony was suddenly reminded of the bruises on his hips when that shrug included a little twist that saw Peter's handcuffs in several pieces. "Oh." Tony tried very hard to control his inappropriate reaction to that. He'd had an objectively terrible day. He decided he was allowed it. Besides, they were married. Under that lens, Tony's reaction was entirely appropriate. "That is incredibly sexy." He held up his wrists. "Can you do me?"

"Tony," Peter said gravely, "I would love to do you."

He snapped the chain, but left the bracelets, which was probably a better idea than risking piercing an artery.

"So what did you do to make them regret everything?" Peter asked. "I heard you tell them it had a time lock, but that can't be all of it."

Tony stared.

"What? Torture doesn't work the way HYDRA thinks it does, and they're deluding themselves if they think you don't have safeguards."

Tony couldn't help taking Peter's face in his hands and kissing his mouth, fast and hard and a little bit dirty. They had some time. Even the Mark III could only move so fast. Because Rhodey had always been an overachiever, there was a terrible crash on the south side of the building.

"I may have lied about how finished those designs were." Not about all of it. The Mark V really was mostly theoretical at this point. Tony's grin was entirely out of his control as he said, "I may have also called my best friend to wreck their shit when they gave me access to a computer." Like JARVIS didn't know exactly what Tony was actually saying and wasn't going to pass it on to the appropriate parties. Pft, like this was the first time someone had tried to kidnap him. Succeeded? Yes. Tried? No. "Pretty sure that's him now."

"Tony?" Tony looked back at Peter. "While the serum's still sort of active—if we'd had the time, I think I could've fallen in love with you."

Tony pressed another quick kiss to Peter's mouth. "That's quitter talk. Now c'mon, let's blow this joint, and maybe I'll finally get the chance to blow you in the back of my Rolls."

Peter wrenched the locked door right off its hinges— _incredibly, ridiculously sexy_ —and tossed it aside. Tony followed Peter out into the hall and away from the big, beautiful distraction Rhodey provided. On the way, they came across the original flavor thug and his evil supervisor. The former still had his pistol. The latter had picked one up along the way. Both unloaded their full clip aimed right at Tony.

Peter tugged Tony out of the way and pushed him into a larger room with loads of crates to hide behind and skylights dimly illuminating it all. Grim-faced and determined, he went back out there. When he came back, he was a bit bloody, especially his left side. He cracked a thin smile. With the tone of a joke he'd told before, "Don't worry, it's all mine."

"That is not in the least reassuring."

They were most of the way out, crossing through another large room with huge windows, crates, and skylights—and, most importantly of all, a service exit—when Captain fucking America came bursting in through the windows. He did a roll and landed on his feet. A guy in wings Tony had designed for an experimental pararescue unit came swooping in after him. A redhead in a catsuit came strolling in through the door.

She smiled slightly as she said, "Boys, it was unlocked."

—

When it was all over bar getting the cuffs off, Rhodey stepped out of the armor and threw his arms around Tony's shoulders. "I knew something was wrong as soon as I got your text."

Tony clung back. "What text?"

Rhodey showed it to him. "You owe me: one best man's speech. Sorry, but I had the bachelor party without you." It was dated Tony's wedding night.

Tony laughed and laughed. He wiped at his face. "Rhodey, baby, you will never believe me, but that text was real."

"You're getting married?"

Tony shook his head. "I had the wedding without you, too."

"To who?" Tony couldn't fault Rhodey the doubt in his voice.

Tony pointed at Peter, who'd picked up a shock blanket from somewhere and was being talked at very earnestly by Captain America. He was tilted very subtly in Tony's direction, but otherwise seemed attentive.

"Yeah, I can believe that."

"About that," came JARVIS's comforting voice. It was pointedly directed at Rhodey.

"Oh. Personal mute off." Tony shot a smile at the suit, knowing JARVIS would see it better through the suit's sensors than through the cell phone's camera, no matter how advanced SI's smartphone line was. "Sorry, J. I wasn't up for any more status updates or imprecations to take my bodyguards."

"Are you up for I told you so's, sir?"

"Yeah, you earned those. Cash 'em in whenever you like."

"It may also be of interest to you to know the events of your wedding night."

Peter was definitely eavesdropping, because his face went sharply interested, while Cap's hadn't changed at all.

"JARVIS, you dirty boy. Did you record another sex tape through my cell phone?"

"No." Tony was unaccountably disappointed. "No sex took place."

"That can't be right. My ass was delightfully sore."

"Sir prepped himself thoroughly, but Mr. Parker passed out around the third finger."

Rhodey snorted. "Did Tony even notice?"

"Not until he spilled lubricant everywhere."

"I—really? No sex?"

"None."

Peter stood up, patted Cap on the shoulder, and made his way to Tony long enough to say, "Let me know when you need me to sign the annulment."

Tony's handsome young husband then turned his back and walked away. No goodbye kiss, no goodbye blowjob, no last ditch attempt to consummate their marriage the way it remained in Tony's heart. It was a disappointment, but maybe it was a good thing.

Tony knew how he felt, but no matter his heart's input, he had questions he needed settling before he made up his mind. Peter was some distance away, but Tony knew Peter could hear him. He said, "I'll let you know."

—

JARVIS and a little research—trawling old internet archives, reading and watching the rare interview, and some light hacking—answered most of those questions. Maybe it was a minor invasion of privacy, but Tony was quickly learning that with his senses, Peter was a walking, talking invasion of privacy.

Tony learned the following:

Peter Parker was a twenty-four year old native of Queens. He had less money in his savings account than Tony routinely spent on a suit. He was a doctoral student with a scholarship and some pretty hefty student loans—or at least, he'd _had_ student loans until Tony saw them. There was absolutely nothing in his financial history that indicated he was in the employ of any of Tony's competitors or even his own company, though he wouldn't have put it past Pepper to hire some discreet bodyguards for when Tony ditched his usual ones. His trip to Vegas would've even proven it justified.

Spider-Man, meanwhile, had no financial history, but a good ten years of do-gooding, from stopping muggers and car crashes as a lanky teen to several face-offs with honest to goodness supervillains as an adult. He mostly stuck to New York City, but there were appearances elsewhere that coincided with Peter Parker traveling.

Peter had purchased a plane ticket to Las Vegas long before Tony's own decision to make an impromptu trip. The night of their own unexpected nuptials was also the day of Peter's best friend Ned's, though the online photos indicated it was a much classier affair. Peter's smile, standing with his arm thrown around Ned's shoulders, was almost as wide as the groom's. Tony traced it on the screen.

Peter wasn't actively trying to insert himself in Tony's life. He wasn't on anyone's payroll. He was just a guy with really weird luck and a superhero problem. Specifically, wherever he went, whatever he did, he ran into the sorts of problems tailor made to be solved by his super secret alternate identity.

And there were worse people to be married to than a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man who had the prettiest brown eyes Tony had ever seen.

—

Tony didn't call. He showed up in person on Peter's doorstep, a tiny matchbox apartment in Queens that offended Tony on a personal level as well as as a matter of principle. Tony Stark's husband should not live somewhere that looked like it had failed its last three building inspections. Neither should Peter Parker, the man who'd helped to save Tony's life.

Peter's expression when he answered Tony's knock was something to behold. He looked like Tony could tip him over with one finger, though overall he looked to be in much better health. Tony asked, "Going to let me in?"

"What—what are you doing—you didn't have to come in person."

Tony sauntered in past him. "I sort of did."

Peter shut the door behind him and turned to face Tony in the limited space available. There was a loft bed with a desk crammed under it. Instead of a kitchen, Peter had a plate warmer, a microwave, and an electric kettle. There was a door to what Tony presumed was a bathroom, but Tony couldn't tell, because it was jammed shut by the open closet door—though calling that little bit of space a closet was an insult to closets everywhere.

"If you want out of this marriage, it's going to have to be a divorce."

"Tony, you heard your AI. It wasn't consummated."

"I don't care. You need two party consent for annulment, and I don't consent."

"We barely know each other."

"We know each other well enough, and I'd be happy to get to know you better. Whatever comes up, it won't change my mind. You could kick puppies as a hobby, and I'd have to believe they were evil puppies or puppy-shaped monsters."

"You're like. Twenty years older than I am." Older than that, but Tony wasn't going to quibble when the error was in his favor.

"And with your lifestyle, I doubt you're the one who's going to be left a widower here." Tony's smile was maybe a touch smug, but it was deserved. "Besides, it didn't seem to bother you too much when you were licking come off my hand."

Peter's face went that delightful pink again. "You live in California. I live in New York."

"If the long distance thing bothers you, I can move. I can move anyway. I'd rather be in the same state as my adorable young husband."

Peter seemed to really be floundering now. "You were blackout drunk and maybe a bit roofied when you signed the marriage papers."

"And it was the best drunken decision I've ever made." Tony had made a lot of them, too. He closed the distance between them, what little the apartment allowed. "What do you say, Mr. Parker? Want to see if we can't redo our wedding night with less passing out prematurely this time?"

"I don't think we'd both fit on the bed." That didn't sound like so much of a no this time. It actually sounded a lot like regret.

Tony eyed the rickety loft. "Yeah, we're going to have to move this to my penthouse for anything fancy."

"Penthouse?" Peter asked.

"I said I'd move. I already have a place to move to." Tony threaded his fingers through Peter's belt loops and pulled. "But first—"

Peter's mouth met Tony's halfway. They ended up bumping against the loft and desk before Peter shoved Tony up against the closet door. The doorknob dug into his spine as Peter's tongue delved into his mouth. It was perfect; Peter was perfect.

"Peter Parker, you saved my life. In some cultures, that makes you responsible for me."

Peter mouthed at Tony's jaw. "I've saved a lot of people's lives over the years, Tony."

"Divorce them instead."

Peter gently bit Tony's chin. "You're the only one I married."

"See? It's meant to be."

—

Married life was an adjustment. Apparently, though communal property applied, because Tony had not gotten a prenup—and boy, wasn't the board happy about that; it almost made up for how mad Pepper was at him, both for that and for dumping handling the wedding announcements on her with as much notice as Tony had for the fact he was going to marry a stranger and low-key fall in love with him, which is to say none—it was not accepted practice to throw out your spouse's entire wardrobe and buy them a new, better one.

"Four words," Tony said. "Fruit of the Looms. I did that cotton a mercy."

"No. You don't get to do this. _Give me my clothes back_."

"What part of, 'I burned them,' are you having trouble with here?"

"The part where I want a divorce! Who even needs twelve silk lounging robes?"

Peter did, obviously.

Also unacceptable: moving your husband out of his crappy matchbox apartment into your spacious penthouse with linen closets bigger than his last bedroom.

"I don't mind moving in with you. I mind that you didn't ask."

"Peter, darling, honey, love of my life. Would you like to move in with me?

"I thought you'd never ask."

"But I literally just moved all your stuff in and you were mad at me!"

"Yes. Because I thought you would _never ask_."

Tony was learning a lot of very important lessons about getting permission ahead of time instead of after the fact. The worst part was, Peter didn't even send him to the couch. No, Peter slept in one of the guest rooms, and apparently it was creepy to let JARVIS watch him change and pee, so all of the visual sensors had been removed and Tony had to go in to watch him sleep the old-fashioned way.

"Just get in here," Peter grumbled. Tony crawled into the guest bed and buried his face in Peter's hair. Peter splayed a palm protectively over Tony's sternum.

Somehow acceptable, though, was waking from nightmares and nearly punching your husband in the face.

"It's okay, Tony. You're in the Tower. You're with me. It's Peter. You're okay. JARVIS, lights."

Tony gasped for breath, his body convinced it was drowning.

"I've got you. You're in the Tower. I've got you, Tony."

So there were definite ups and downs. Sometimes it was kind of hard to see where the boundary was. Tony got halfway through the Mark XV of the new Iron Man series before he remembered to ask, "Sweetheart, what are your thoughts on a small army of robots that double as really extensive prosthetic equipment?"

"If you think I'm unaware of what you're doing in your workshop, you're wrong." Peter dropped a kiss against the crown of Tony's head. "Just don't sell it to the government."

"Hm. Privatizing world peace. I like the sound of that."

"That is not what I said."

"Tagline: peace in our time."

Peter sighed. "I love you, but that is blatant plagiarism."

Tony beamed. "I love you, too."

Tony Stark went to Vegas to cause a scandal. He came back with a husband.

**Author's Note:**

> Content advisories include the expected age gap, canon typical violence, torture, threats of violence and murder, main characters getting wounded, implications that sex was had while blackout drunk, people trying to have sex while drugged and/or drunk, people getting married under the influence of alcohol and drugs (specifically: while they were drugged, not recreational), people being drunk and/or drugged, people engaging in attempts at sex and/or flirting while hiding information their partners should be aware of, kidnapping, boundary issues, um. If there's something you're worried about, ask me, and I'll try to let you know. 
> 
> In more detail: the gist is Tony is trying to engage in sex with Peter without telling him he fully intends them to be a scandal, Peter flirts with Tony and nearly has sex with him while not telling him Peter is currently engaged in an impromptu game of keep Tony away from his would-be kidnappers, and they both sign marriage papers while impaired. Though they don't have sex, they both think they did. Then there is kidnapping, torture, and violence.
> 
> The E rating is not an indicator of much in the way of sexually explicit content in this story. It's for a combination of handful of moments and the torture. The actual sex scene I meant to end on got cut in favor of something that tied the story more firmly together. It's better for it, though a shame Peter never did get that blowjob onscreen.
> 
> Content warnings aside, I run a very small Discord for this ship if anyone is ever interested in joining and chatting. Please let me know in the comments! ♥
> 
> ETA: And now with [a much more explicit AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503880).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Worth the Wait](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503880) by [tuesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday)




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